Fully Freed Four
by Ciara3
Summary: This is just Divergent from Four's POV. I know it's a frequently used type of fanfiction, but I enjoy the fact that each and every one offers a slightly different perspective on Four's character, so this is my version of Four.
1. Chapter 1

This day, two years ago, was the day that set me free. No, I think with a growl at nothing in particular. Not free. I'll never be free from the cowardice that drove me here and the fears that still haunt me. The irony is not lost on me – I was driven by cowardice to the faction of the brave.

I step into the cafeteria and, weaving in and out through the crowd, make my way to the table I usually sit at with my friends.

"Any bets on first Dauntless jumper?" asks Zeke as I approach. As a general rule, when they arrive at the compound, the transfers jump first into a net suspended between two buildings. Of course, they can't see the net from where they are standing, but that was the fun of it, wasn't it?

I consider his question for a moment. "What's the wager?" I ask, grinning at him.

"Winner gives a quarter of their points for the month to the loser."

Tough wager. I usually use up all my points, doing one thing or another with them.

Just then, Lauren walks up to us. "Sounds like a good deal. My bet's on Lynne." I swear Lauren has spies all around. She's always able to enter the conversation at the right time.

"Mine's on Marlene. No offense, Zeke, but she's more likely to do it than Uriah." I grin at my friend.

Zeke's eyes flash, but he grins nonetheless. "It's probably just cuz Shauna will beat you up if you choose anyone else." I laugh and jab him hard in the ribs as he continues, "Well, I was going to pick someone else, but-" I snort. Pick someone else – yeah right. They may fight, but Zeke and Uriah are each other's number one supporters. The best kind of brothers. "-_but_," he says again, rolling his eyes at me, "Uriah is my pick. He'll do it."

"I wouldn't be too sure," I say, giving him a shove in the shoulder.

"Oh yeah?" asks Zeke, cracking his knuckles jokingly.

"We don't need a fight in the middle of the cafeteria, you two." It is Lauren's turn to roll her eyes at us.

I laugh and begin to walk away, motioning above us as I go. "I have to monitor the security cameras for the morning," I make a face. I like working with computers, but monitoring the security cameras is as boring as it can get. Luckily, I'm hardly ever stuck with doing that.

I walk down the hallway a little bit behind Zeke, Shauna, and Lauren. I wouldn't have volunteered again this year to train the initiates if it weren't for them – and the memories, of course. I couldn't deny it, training was the first time I had ever felt strong, especially after my childhood. The Dauntless compound – it was the first place I felt like I could _do_ something, or _be _something.

I push the thoughts away, trying to force myself into the mold I have created for myself as an instructor. I give no leeway, and I'm tough, but I'm not sadistic. Not like Eric. Although maybe, just maybe, he's one more reason that I volunteered to train the initiates. I would have chosen my job differently, if I had known –

I push the thoughts back once again as we arrive at the net. No weakness. Besides, if I have to admit it, it's fun to scare the transfers – especially the Candors. Okay – it's a _lot_ of fun.

We stand by the net, waiting for the familiar sound of the train to arrive. After a few minutes of no conversation, we hear the train coming, and then the sound of voices. One voice cuts over the rest, and I struggle to hear whose it is.

It's Max's of course, but I can't tell what he's saying.

Then, a figure steps up to the edge of the building. He or she – I can't tell which – looks small, but that's probably just a trick of the height. Then, the figure jumps, and, in a quick second, lands in the net.

I reach down to help steady her as she climbs out. She is wearing all grey. _Abnegation?_ I think with surprise. Still, I couldn't be one to talk. The girl has blond hair that falls past her shoulders and light blue eyes. She's all skin and bones, courtesy of the plain food and minimal exercise that the people of Abnegation get. But she's still striking, in a way.

"Thank you," she says to me. I am about to reply, but then Lauren cuts in.

"Can't believe it," she says. "A Stiff, the first to jump? Unheard of." I fight the urge to roll my eyes, although it was true. I had jumped second, not first.

"There's a reason why she left them, Lauren," I tell her. Then I turn back to the girl. "What's your name?" I ask her.

She hesitates for a moment, and I can't supress the small smile that plays at my lips, remembering when I first got my nickname – the one that I still use. "Think about it," I tell her. "You don't get to pick again."

"Tris," she says firmly. I wonder what it stands for, or if it even stands for anything. I wouldn't blame her if she chose an entirely different name.

"Tris," Lauren repeats with a grin. She prods me in the back. "Make the announcement, Four."

I look over my shoulder at the ground of Dauntless behind me, waiting to hear the name of the first jumper. I don't disappoint them. "First jumper – Tris!" I say, and they cheer in that raucous way that is a trademark of Dauntless.

All of a sudden, someone else pitches themself off the roof, screaming. Everyone laughs as she falls, but when she gets up they resume cheering.

Without thinking, I set my hand on the Abnegation girl – Tris's back. I try to ignore the sudden nervousness that wells up inside me when I do this. _Why is she making me nervous?_

"Welcome to Dauntless," I tell her, successfully managing to ignore the nervous buzzing in my stomach.

The rest of the transfers take their turns jumping and then stand in a group off to the side. It's time for the Dauntless born to jump. Zeke and Lauren flank me on either side as the first one jumps, screaming like a girl – except that he's not one.

Uriah pops up from the net and I help him up, trying to stifle the laughter that was building from the sound of his screams.

"Shut up, Four," he growled at me when he saw my smirk.

"I'm your instructor now – you'd better stop talking to me like that." I try to say it seriously, but I still can't wipe the smirk off my face.

Uriah punches me in the side, a little harder than what would be socially acceptable, and walks off to the side to wait for his friends. I turn around and walk up to Zeke, leaving Lauren to help the remaining Dauntless-borns out of the net.

"I'll take my payment tomorrow," he says, grinning at me.

I smack him over the side of the head.

Once all the initiates are grouped together, Zeke, Lauren and I lead them back down the tunnel. All three of us put our joking and friendliness aside, trying to appear as ominous and fearsome towards the initiates as possible. We stop when we reach the end of the tunnel. I hear smacks – some of the initiates probably ran into one another after the abrupt stop.

"This is where we divide," Lauren tells them loudly. "The Dauntless-born initiates are with me. I assume you don't need a tour of the place."

She smiles at everyone and leads the Dauntless-born initiates out. She's too nice sometimes.

I wait for them to disappear completely before I introduce myself to the transfers. "Most of the time, I work in the control room, but for the next few weeks, I am your instructor. My name is Four."

"Four? Like the number?" asks a girl incredulously. She has to be a Candor.

"Yes. Is there a problem?" I glare sternly at her, any remnants of the good mood I had been in disappearing.

"No," she says.

"Good." I take my eyes off of her and continue speaking, "We're about to go into the Pit, which you will someday learn to love. It-"

The Candor girl snickers. "The Pit?" she asks. "Clever name."

I've had enough of the Candor smart mouths already. I stride up to her, brushing past the other transfers, and lean close to her, glowering.

"What's your name?" I ask quietly. When most people are mad, their tone increases in volume. I do that too, but when I'm quiet – the transfers will soon learn this – when I'm quiet, I'm dangerous.

She flinches involuntarily. "Christina," she squeaks in fear. Good – it was working.

"Well, Christina," I continue, deathly quiet, "if I wanted to put up with Candor smart-mouths, I would have joined their faction. The first lesson you will learn from me is to keep your mouth shut. Got that?"

She nods jerkily and I step away, leading the transfers out of the tunnel and trying to ignore their whispers. I pull open the set of double doors that leads to the Pit and lead them inside. I let them stand and ogle for a minute, before I decide I've had enough standing around, and I address them again.

"If you follow me, I'll show you the chasm."

I lead them towards the right side of the Pit to the railing that is the only barrier between the Pit and the chasm. I let the strangely comforting sound of the raging water wash around me. It has always helped me think, although I'm not sure why.

"The chasm reminds us that there is a fine line between bravery and idiocy!" I finally yell over the rushing of the water. It seems to add power to my voice. "A daredevil jump off this ledge will end your life. It has happened before and it will happen again. You've been warned." And it's true. Too many people try to toe the line between bravery and idiocy without the chasm, but it is only the people that ignore that line completely who jump over. Well, them and the ones who decide they don't want to live anymore. But that's something I shouldn't tell them. Not now.

I hear all the transfers exclaiming in awe at the chasm as I begin to lead them away, into the dining hall. As we enter, the Dauntless begin cheering, applauding, and stamping their feet. I remember the rush I felt the first time I entered here, and I feel it again now.

I find myself sitting beside Tris, who is in between me and Christina, for our meal. I notice Tris staring blankly at the food and try to supress a grin, remembering my first reaction to the food here. Abnegation wasn't exactly known for its culinary creativity.

I nudge her gently with my elbow to get her attention. "It's beef," I tell her, motioning to the patty in the middle of the hamburger. "Put this on it." I hand her a bowl of ketchup.

"You've never had a hamburger before?" asks Christina, looking surprised.

"No," Tris replies to her. "Is that what it's called?"

` "Stiffs eat plain food," I explain to Christina, making sure not to show any sign of my amusement at her reaction. It was pretty funny, but I was Four, the serious instructor, now.

"Why?" she asks incredulously.

Tris shrugs at her. "Extravagance is considered self-indulgent and unnecessary," she explains. Typical Abnegation.

Christina smirks. "No wonder you left."

"Yeah," Tris says drily, rolling her eyes. "It was just because of the food." I try to supress my smile again, but I can't help but let the corners of my mouth twitch upwards. It's not every day you see a sarcastic Stiff. After all, sarcasm is frowned upon in Abnegation.

Suddenly, the cafeteria goes quiet. It seems as if the air itself has gotten a few degrees colder. I look over my shoulder and see Eric entering. I silently will him not to come over here. I really didn't need that.

"Who's that?" Christina hisses.

"His name is Eric," I explain. "He's a Dauntless leader." _And I could have been in his place_, I add silently.

"Seriously? But he's so young," Christina says. Her Candor is showing again, and now it's really starting to get on my nerves, but I ignore it and just look at her gravely.

"Age doesn't matter here," I tell her.

She looks like she's about to ask something else, but then her eyes focus on Eric. He's making his way to our table. _Great_, I thought. _Just what I need._ He sits down in the empty seat next to me as I tense up. He doesn't say anything at first, so I allow us to sit in silence.

"Well, aren't you going to introduce me?" he asks, nodding towards Christina and Tris, in the typical I'm-better-than-you tone of voice.

"This is Tris and Christina," I tell him, nodding in the direction of each of the girls as I say their names.

"Oooh, a Stiff," says Eric, a malicious smirk on his face. "We'll see how long you last."

I want to remind him that I was a Stiff too, and that I beat him in rankings, but I stay quiet. Better to not make him angry in a crowd of people.

He taps his fingers on the table as if he's bored, but that's not likely, although I'm honestly not sure why he's actually doing it.

"What have you been doing lately, Four?" he asks me. I wonder where all this small talk is heading. It can't be good.

"Nothing, really," I tell him, not giving him the satisfaction of a straight answer.

"Max tells me he keeps trying to meet with you, and you don't show up," Eric says. Ah – now we're getting to what he wants to discuss. "He requested that I find out what's going on with you."

I look at Eric for a moment, trying to size him up and figure out if he knows what Max was wanting to talk to me about.

"Tell him I am satisfied with the position I currently hold," I tell Eric.

"So he wants to give you a job." So Max didn't tell Eric why he wanted to meet with me. Interesting.

"So it would seem," I reply vaguely. I can feel my body coiled tight as a spring. I just wanted Eric to leave.

"And you aren't interested." Thank you, Captain Obvious.

"I haven't been interested for two years," I say shortly, trying to send him the message that this conversation is over.

"Well, let's hope he gets the point, then." He claps me on the shoulder, slightly harder than he probably should have, and leaves.

I relax a little more in my seat.

"Are you two… friends?" Tris asks me. I try to supress my surprise. She is a Stiff – she should not be curious. Then again, she did leave for a reason.

"We were in the same initiate class," I tell her, hoping it will satisfy her curiosity. Then I add, "He transferred from Erudite.

"Did you transfer too?" she asks.

I growl inwardly. "I thought I would only have trouble with the Candor asking too many questions," he says coldly. "Now I've got Stiffs, too?"

With hardly a pause, she retorts, "It must be because you're so approachable. You know. Like a bed of nails." I had to hand it to her, that was witty. Very witty.

I stare at her, trying to figure her out. She catches and holds my gaze. I can't help but notice that she has nice eyes, and I can't help but mentally berate myself afterwards. I notice heat rushing to her cheeks, and I wonder what she is thinking.

"Careful, Tris," I warn her, choosing to break off the stare rather than see where it might lead, because that could be awkward.

I hear Zeke call my name and I get up and move over to his table.

"What was that about?" he asks when I reach them, motioning to Eric.

"Same thing as Max has been bugging me about," I tell him darkly.

"Have you ever considered taking the spot? You'd make a better leader than Eric," he says sourly.

"No I wouldn't," I glower. Zeke looks surprised so I elaborate. "Even if it were me, Max wouldn't let me do anything without his approval. It would be the same thing."

"Yeah, except for the fact that you're – you know, _nice_?"

"Shhh!" I grin at him. "We can't let that secret get out. I've got one or two very scared transfers, and I intend to keep it that way." I turn serious again, "It still wouldn't matter. Max would have me under his thumb." Before Zeke can argue, I add, "I have to go. Computers are calling." I grin at him and walk out, leaving him standing there stuttering behind me.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This is a shorter chapter. Mine usually push 2-3k, so if it's too much, let me know and I can break the chapters down into two parts. **

* * *

I wake up to someone knocking at my door, followed by the click as the lock turns. There's only one person I've ever given my apartment key to, and he steps into the room.

"Figured you could use a wakeup call," Zeke tells me.

"Thanks," I tell him as I roll out of bed and onto the floor without bothering to break my fall. He laughs and then pulls me up, handing me the muffin.

I eat the muffin drowsily. I'm never fully awake in the early morning, whereas Zeke seems to always have energy, be it morning or night. Last year we decided that we would take turns getting up early to wake the other up, which was when we exchanged keys, with a strict rule that they would not be used for anything other than wakeup calls. Soon we realized that Zeke really didn't need me to wake up, so he started waking me up every morning instead. I preferred my friend over an alarm clock. He was less annoying – usually.

"What are you teaching them today?" he asks me.

"Shooting guns, I think."

"Which one do you think you'll scare most?" he asks with a grin.

"Hopefully the Candor girl. She needs to be taught her place," I glower as I speak.

"Well you're just a bundle of joy this morning." Zeke rolls his eyes at me.

"When am I ever a bundle of joy, Zeke?" I ask, unable to supress a grin.

"Good point. I'll see you at lunch I guess?" he asks as he finishes up the last of his muffin.

"Yup. See you."

I showered in cold water to try to force myself awake, and then headed down to the training room. I had gotten three hours of sleep last night. That was hardly anything, even by Dauntless standards. But it with what I was discovering in the locked files of the computers, well – it would be worth it.

I entered the training room just a few minutes ahead of the other initiates to make sure all the targets were in place. Once the last stragglers had entered, I began talking.

"The first thing you will learn today is how to shoot a gun. The second thing is how to win a fight." I pick up the guns and press them into the hands of each of the initiates, without looking at any of them, before continuing my little speech. "Thankfully, if you are here, you already know how to get on and off a moving train, so I don't have to teach you that.

"Initiation is divided into three stages. We will measure your progress according to your performance in each stage. The three stages are not weighted equally in determining your final rank, so it is possible, though difficult, to drastically improve your rank over time." I let my eyes scan the faces of the initiates, my eyes resting a fraction of a second longer on Tris, who is looking down at her gun. She didn't look like much of a fighter, so this information was vital to her.

"We believe that preparation eradicates cowardice, which we define as the failure to act in the midst of fear." Or at least, that's how we used to define it. "Therefore, each stage of initiation is intended to prepare you in a different way. The first stage is primarily physical; the second, primarily emotional; the third, primarily mental." In initiation we valued mental preparation over everything, but in real life, it seemed like mental preparedness was the last thing on anyone's mind. Except maybe Eric's, but I don't count sadistic mind frames as mental preparedness.

"But what…" speaks up an initiate while yawning. His name is Peter, I think. "What does firing a gun have to do with… bravery?" he yawned again.

I felt my anger boiling. Had I not just talked about mental preparedness? And here he was, acting like it was leisure time. I guess it's time for the first real lesson of the day…

I stride over to him quickly, flipping the gun in my hand and then pressing it to his head. I click the bullet into place and glare at him menacingly. He freezes at me, another yawn dying halfway out.

"Wake. Up." I snap at him angrily. "You are holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it." I watch with satisfaction as he straightens up, and keeps the sense to not say anything else – or yawn again.

"And to answer your question," I continue, "you are far less likely to soil your pants and cry for your mother if you're prepared to defend yourself." Knowing how to use a gun – it traces back to mental preparedness. Everything starts with mental preparedness, but they should learn that soon enough.

"This is also information you may need later in stage one. So, watch me."

I draw my gun, holding it up towards the target in two hands. At least I didn't have to bother to click a bullet into place. In inhale slowly, and as I exhale, I fire – a perfect bull's eye, as usual.

I step back to watch them practice. I see them all jump back at different times, due to the recoil of the gun. It happened to me, too, the first time I shot a gun. But then, that was the first time I felt power – the first time I felt like I could do something worthwhile, or hold my own against Marcus.

My eyes drift over to Tris. She is no longer jumping back when she shoots, which is better than some of them, but her bullets go nowhere near the target, either. The blond-haired Erudite boy leans over to her and says something, although I can't see what. She looks annoyed, and turns back to the target. This time, when she shoots, the bullet nicks the corner of her target. She turns back to the Erudite boy, Will, I think his name is, and he says something else which causes her to grin. A pang of jealousy goes through me, although I'm not even sure why.

The shooting goes on for a while, and by lunch everyone has hit the middle of the target, except the large Candor boy named Al. He might be big, but he has pitiful aim.

I sit with Zeke, Lauren, and Shauna for lunch. Zeke, Lauren and I talk about our initiate groups, while Shauna listens interestedly.

"The really big guy," I say gesturing to where Al is sitting with Christina, Will, and Tris. My eyes catch on Tris for a moment longer than they should, and I think Lauren notices, but she has the sense not to say anything as I can continue, "He can't aim to save his life. Didn't hit the centre of the target once."

"Did the others?" asks Zeke.

"All the rest of them did," I confirm.

"Even the Stiff?" he asks, surprised.

"She did it before Myra. She's the Erudite girl," I add, seeing there confused looks. "I think Tris is going to end up being a better fighter than her, too, though. I'm pretty sure Myra only transferred because Edward did." I motion to where Myra and Edward are sitting together, kissing as much as they are eating. I found it sort of disgusting, but then again, that was probably just my Abnegation side showing.

"Tris?" asks Zeke, confused.

I roll my eyes at him. "The Stiff. Are you sure you have a brain inside that skull?"

"I wouldn't know," he replies. I raise my eyebrow at him. "What? I've never seen it!" I have to laugh at that. Zeke always knows what to do to lighten up the conversation.

After that, the conversation moves to the Dauntless born initiates. I know most of them pretty well, so I tune out, and I can't help but notice that my gaze continually drifts back to Tris, even though I'm still not really sure why.

After lunch, I lead the transfers to another room. to teach them to fight. When we enter, my eyes drift to the chalkboard that has their names listed in alphabetical order. Eric would use that to make the pairs to fight. I had almost no say in who fought who, which bugged me immensely.

I turned around to the transfers, who were now all standing by a punching bag, and addressed them. "As I said this morning, next you will learn how to fight. The purpose of this is to prepare you to act; to prepare your body to respond to threats and challenges – which you will need, if you intend to survive life as a Dauntless." And how true that was, especially if you had people like Eric watching your ever move. "We will go through technique today," I continue, "and tomorrow you will start to fight each other. So I recommend that you pay attention. Those who don't learn fast will get hurt."

I walk over to a punching bag and show them some simple punches and even simpler kicks, then motion for them to do the same. Edward catches on fastest. I have to admit, he's good – really good. I start to move through the crowd of initiates, correcting their technique and giving them pointers. I steadfastly avoid Tris until I've seen everyone else, then I make my way over to her.

I give her a swift, calculating look, trying not to let my eyes linger on her.

"You don't have much muscle, which means you're better off using your knees and elbows. You can put more power behind them."

I watch her for another second or two before I press a hand to her stomach. My hand reaches from one side of her rib cage to the other, but I try to ignore it.

"Never forget to keep tension here," I tell her quietly, hoping that my nervousness won't show to her. Then I abruptly take my hand off of her and walk away, trying to calm my breathing that has sped up and make the nervous buzzing in my stomach stop. I wasn't sure what it was about her that made me so nervous. It annoyed me as much as it fascinated me. I was Four – I was not supposed to fall for the initiates. I was supposed to be there tough instructor, and – I smirked slightly – since when did I show emotion?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry, this chapter is really short. It was Spring Break for me this week, which is why I got so many updates done in one week. Don't expect that normally - I lead an extremely busy life :p I'll try to get in one or two more updates over the weekend, though, before school starts back up.**

**Anyways, you know the drill: Read, review, favourite, and follow ;)**

**ALSO: They just cast Theo James as Four in the Divergent movie. I'm nervous about that... he's WAY older than Four, but Veronica Roth really liked his screen test and thinks he's going to make a really good Four, so I guess all we can do is hope...**

* * *

I enter the training room the next day to see Eric has already paired up the initiates to fight. I notice with some relief – although I'm not sure why – that Tris is the odd one out and will not be fighting today.

"Like the pairings?" asks Eric, who is standing in the corner of the room.

"Molly and Christina should be interesting," I say, trying to keep my voice as civil as possible. "So will Al and Will."

Eric just nodded, and then we descend into a tense silence until the initiates arrived. I stand up to address them.

"Since there are an odd number of you, one of you won't be fighting today," I say. I look at Tris, who catches my eye. I quickly look away, hoping Eric didn't notice. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tris and Christina talking, gesturing towards the group of Peter, Drew, and Molly.

I turn my gaze and watch Will and Al walk into the arena. They shuffle around each other. I consider them quickly. Al is big and powerful, but Will is faster, and probably smarter. I really was right when I said this fight should be interesting.

Al makes the first move, punching Will, who can't step out of the way, hard in the jaw. Will stumbles to the side, clutching his face, but still manages to block Al's next punch with his other hand. Then, recovering, he hooks a foot around Al's leg and pulls Al to the ground. The latter quickly pulls himself back to his feet. Then, they both face each other and begin circling hesitantly.

"Do you think this is a leisure activity?" shouts Eric. It's the first noise he's made since the initiates arrived. "Should we break up for naptime? Fight each other!"

Instead of starting again, which would have been wise, Al straightens and asks, "But, is it scored or something? When does the fight end?"

` "It ends when one of you is unable to continue," Eric replies maliciously.

I decide to step in. "According to the Dauntless rules, one of you could always concede."

Eric narrows his eyes at me, but stays where he is. "According to the old rules. In the new rules, no one concedes."

The new rules were stupid, to the point of promoting cowardice. If you keep beating someone while they're lying on the ground in pain, are you really any better than them?

"A brave man acknowledges the strength of others," I tell him.

"A brave man never surrenders," he replies right away. We enter a stare down. I can't stand having to listen to him, but unfortunately for me, he has the authority.

We're interrupted by Al. "This is ridiculous," he says with a shake of his head. "What's the point of beating him up? We're in the same faction!" He is treading on dangerous ground, now. It isn't smart to make Eric angrier.

"Oh, you think it's going to be that easy?" Will retorts with a grin, saving him from Eric's wrath. "Go on. Try to hit me, slowpoke."

Will looks determined now, ducking and dodging all of Al's punches, before kicking him in the back. Al rears and turns around, grabbing one of Will's arms so he can't get away, while punching him hard with his free hand. Will drops like a sack of potatoes. Maybe I shouldn't underestimate Al, after all.

Al bends over next to Will and starts tapping his cheek, trying to wake him up. I resist the urge to roll my eyes, realizing that I'm not underestimating Al at all. He might be big, but he's soft. Too soft to be Dauntless, probably.

Then, Will blinks dazedly and I hear Eric say, "Get him up." I don't like the way Eric is looking at Will lying there. That look on Eric is always, _always_ dangerous. I turn to the chalkboard to circle Al's name, signifying that he won. Then, I turn back and help Will out of the room, once Al's gotten to his feet.

As we walk, Will slowly comes to.

"Wha-what happened?" he asks. Seeing that he is regaining strength already, I let go of him so he can walk on his own.

"Al knocked you out," I reply simply.

He nods grimly, then, "Where are we going?"

"The infirmary," I tell him. "They'll probably give you something for a headache, then you'll be free to go.

I deposit him at the infirmary and am halfway back to the training room before I meet Zeke, who has a crazed, scared look in his eyes.

"Why did you leave them alone with Eric?"

"I had to take someone to the infirmary," I say, panic gripping my gut. "Why? What's he doing? Can we stop it?"

"We can't. But the Candor girl – he's making her hang over the ledge to the chasm for five minutes."

"What? Why?" I ask in shock, already running towards the chasm.

"Don't… know…" replies Zeke, who's panting with the effort of keeping up with me.

Zeke manages to grab me and pull me into the shadows before we reach the chasm.

"You can't go in there," he hisses at me. "It'll only make things worse. Stay-"

"Well what am I supposed to do?" I ask angrily. "Those are my initiates he's mistreating!" I don't know why I feel so possessive of them all of a sudden. Then again, maybe it's not _them_, it's _her_. I try to brush the thought off as soon as it comes to me, but it sticks in my mind. I just know I can't let it become true, because it will ruin all the plans I've made, and everything I've been working for.

"Wait it out," he whispers to me. "Max will find out, and he's not gonna like it. The Candor is strong. She'll do it."

I glower at him but I do see the logic behind his reasoning. I can't stride up there and demand Eric stop it, because he won't, and things will only go worse for me. If I wait here, I run the risk of Christina dying. But at least if that happens, Eric will still give me the same amount of control I have now. Not a lot, but enough. As well as that, Max might find out and remove some control from Eric. I don't want full control, but I don't want Eric to have full control, either.

We watch from the shadows, the noise of the water drowning out any noise that might have been coming from the group, if any of them were talking. I can see Christina's hands slip from the railing so she's holding on by her fingertips. She looks like she's crying, but I'm too far away to tell.

I find myself silently rooting for her. I may not like, her, but I don't have a death wish for her either. An unprecedented memory comes to my mind of my old instructor Amar as they carted away his dead body for burial. No – no one deserves that.

I think I can hear someone cheering her on, but I am not sure. I do hear her scream, though, and then her hands slip from the railing. I try to run forwards, but Zeke holds me back again.

"She's still holding on," he hisses to me. "And you wouldn't be able to do anything anyways."

For a second, I consider fighting him – forcing him to let me go so I could go attack Eric next. I sigh. I know Zeke is right. I can't do anything to help her.

Finally, I see Eric say something and Al rushes to help Christina up. Tris follows him, but I notice with a slight smile that she's too short to actually help until Al has gotten Christina completely over the barrier.

"See? It's fine," Zeke assures me.

I nod but still stand there stiffly, unsure of what to do now that it is over. I'm pretty sure they won't resume training – Eric is too riled up and it's almost dinner anyways.

"Go check on your initiate in the infirmary," Zeke tells me, giving me a rough push back in the direction that we came. "I'm going to go talk to Max."

"Zeke…" I warn him. This could get him in more trouble than anything else.

"It's fine. Being twisted enough to scare them into submission is one thing, but almost killing her? Max isn't going to like it."

"Fine," I say with a sigh. "I'll see you later."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I've been having computer trouble (a.k.a. GIANT cracks all over my screen) so I haven't been writing that much. It's hard to focus when you can't see half your screen :p Anyways, here's Chapter 4! Enjoy!**

* * *

I walk into the training room early again the next morning. Eric was nowhere in sight, and the pairs were up on the board. I scanned them quickly, and my heart nearly stops. Tris is up against Peter.

I should have known. Eric wouldn't want to give anyone a reprieve. Giving Tris a break just meant a harder partner today.

"Like the pairings?" asks Eric as he walks in, smiling maliciously.

"They should be interesting," I try to say casually, but my nervousness heightens to something I've never felt before. _He knows_, I think, although I'm not really sure if there is anything to know. Do I like Tris? I try desperately to shake the thoughts from my head as the initiates walk in, but I can't help but watch her more than I normally would. What is it about her that's so interesting to me? Is it because she's just like me, or is there something more?

I turn my attention to the ring as Molly and Edward fight, although it happens too fast for my liking. But of course it would, Molly is no match for Edward, even if it were a bad day for him, he'd beat Molly.

I watch Tris and Peter take to the floor next.

"You okay there, Stiff?" asks Peter. "You look like you're about to cry. I might go easy on you if you cry."

Of all the despicable, low life – my train of thought stops as I see Tris glance over at me, and Eric. She didn't look afraid, or at least, not completely afraid, but she did look determined, in a way.

Without warning, Peter switches his stance to the ready position and taunts her again.

"Come on, Stiff. Just one little tear, maybe some begging."

I see an angry glint in Tris's eye, and I hope she is not about to attack without thinking it through. Attacking out of sheer anger is one of the worst things you can do in a fight, and Peter knows it. I hate to admit it, but he's smart. Malicious, sadistic, but smart.

Tris attempts to kick him in the side – without thinking. She should know better than that. He grabs her foot and pulls it forward. Tris falls backwards onto the floor.

_Pull yourself together Tris_, I think. I know she can do it.

She jumps back to her feet as Eric snaps, "Stop playing with her. I don't have all day."

He's as malicious as Peter is.

Peter's face hardens, and he punches Tris hard and fast in the face. I try to avoid wincing from just seeing it. That must have hurt. Then, he kicks her in the stomach and she goes down, gasping for breath.

Come on, Tris.

She pushes herself up, but then Peter is standing over her, grabbing her hair and punching her in the nose with his free hand. She looks like she's trying to push him off, but he just punches her again in the ribs. He shoves her down, and she stands back up, although she's looking like she can't be seeing straight right now.

It worries me, but that' s bad. It's all I can do to just stop myself from going up there and pulling Peter off of her. I can't watch anymore.

"I just forgot," I say, turning to Eric, "I left some important paperwork in the control room that was supposed to be delivered. I have to run and do that right now."

"Seems unlike you to forget," says Eric, watching me carefully. Out of the corner of my eye I see Peter hit Tris's ear.

"It's the crazy schedule I'm running." It was the first excuse that came to mind.

Eric dismisses me with a wave of his hand, and I stride out. I round a couple of corners before I stop. I lean against a wall, forcing myself to breathe. It was a trick I learned when I came here. If I focus on breathing, and nothing but breathing, it helps me remain void of thought, and, if I can do it well enough, void of emotion, too.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

I hear footsteps from around the corner, and I pull myself from my stupor. I begin walking that way, hoping that if it is Eric I will be able to tell him I'm coming back from the control room.

Turns out, though, that it's Lauren, carrying Tris to the infirmary. She's breathing pretty hard, and in spite of myself, I have to grin. It's almost impossible to stay the person I am in training around my friends.

"A little out of practice, there?" I ask, startling her.

She rolls her eyes at me and stops beside me.

"I thought Eric said something about you in the control room?"

"I had to get out. It's brutal in there."

She glances down at Tris's face, then grimaces and nods in agreement. "What happened to her?"

"Eric put her up against one of our best fighters." I wince without really meaning to, then add, "Here, let me take her."

She passes Tris over to me and we part ways, going in opposite directions. Tris is as light as a feather, and soon I deposit her in the infirmary. As much as I want to, it will look really bad if I stay, so I leave, hoping that she'll be up and about before long, although once again, I'm really not sure why I'm taking such partial interest in her. I shouldn't – it's dangerous, especially with Eric on the prowl.

I don't return to the training room after that. I can't. I go back to my apartment, but there I have nothing to do but pace.

My eyes are drawn over and over to the words I have painted on my wall, directly across from my bed. "Fear God Alone".

I wish it were that easy. But if it were, I wouldn't have those four fears in my landscape. I'd have none. In spite of myself, I smile. I guess I'd have one. But that would be God, so it wouldn't count. And isn't it sort of different, anyways?

I shake my head and sit down on my bed. Pointless babble has always annoyed me – fluffy conversations that really have no meaning. And right now, I'm just going through circles of thoughts – the same things over and over, so it is essentially the same thing as pointless babble.

I think I'm going insane.

After another hour or two of repetitive thoughts , I finally just decide to go to bed, extremely aware of the fact that I missed dinner, but too exhausted to care.

The next morning I find myself standing at the tracks, waiting for the other initiates to arrive. They all come at different times, Tris and Christina coming last. They almost didn't make it, and that would have worried me.

Tris looks just as bad as she did last night. She has bruises all over her face, and I can bet she has them on her ribs, too.

I turn back to the train, standing so close enough to feel the slip-stream of wind that rushes by it. Then, I step back and allow some of the initiates to get on before I jump on myself.

I spin around when I get on to see Tris is the last initiate on the ground. She reaches up for the handle, and I can see pain etched on her face, but it's going to have to be something she gets used to if she wants to fit in here.

Will looks like he is about to extend a hand to help her in when Al reaches down, picks her up, and sets her down in the train. She tries to smile at him, but she looks embarrassed, and, dare I say it – very annoyed.

"Feeling okay there? Or are you a little… _Stiff_?" asks Peter, laughing at his own joke. Molly and Drew both join in and I barely manage to conceal myself rolling my eyes.

"We are all awed by your incredible wit," retorts Will.

"Yeah, are you sure you don't belong with the Erudite, Peter? I hear they don't object to sissies," says Christina. Trust the Candor to come up with something like that – honest, but definitely not a good comeback.

"Am I going to have to listen to your bickering all the way to the fence?" I ask when I see Peter ready to reply to her. Everyone is obviously smart enough to close their mouths rather than make me angry, so when I'm sure they're going to be quiet, I turn around and hold onto the handles of the train, leaning out of it and into the wind.

I watch the eerie, abandoned buildings fly quickly by us. The sight is strangely comforting – for all the differences that can lead to disunity in Dauntless, we aren't yet as bad as this. We're still in one piece, so far.

"What do you think is out there?" I hear Tris ask. "I mean, beyond the fence."

"A bunch of farms, I guess." I hear Christina reply.

"Yeah, but I mean past the farms. What are we guarding the city from?"

"Monsters!"

But Tris has touched on something I'd always wondered about – what were we guarded from? And more importantly, due to the frequent trips to the fence to visit friends and lead initiate trips, why did it look like we were being locked in, rather than something being locked out? The lock was on the outside of the fence, after all.

I tune back into the conversation Will, Christina and Tris are having.

"Don't you remember when Dauntless police used to patrol the factionless sector?" Will asks.

"Yes," Tris replies.

"Oh, right. I bet you saw them all the time."

"Why do you say that?" asks Tris. She sounds very defensive, but that's good. Hopefully it means the Abnegation side of her is leaving – that she's becoming less loyal to her faction – and she truly is becoming Dauntless. She'll need it if she wants to get past this first stage.

"Because you had to pass the factionless sector to get to school, right?" replies Will. Trust the Erudite to know something like that.

"What did you do, memorize a map of the city for fun?" asks Christina.

"Yes, didn't you?" I would have given anything to see the expression on the Candor's face at that moment, but the train stops before I can turn around, and I jump off.

"Follow me," I call back to them without really turning around. I lead them to a large gate and continue talking. "If you don't rank in the top five at the end of initiation, you will probably end up here. One you are a fence guard, there's room for advancement, but not much. You may be able to go on patrols beyond Amity's farms, but –"

"Patrols for what purpose?" asks Will. The Erudites – even former ones, are used to knowing everything. But here, knowledge, even trivial knowledge such as this, isn't given to them like it is in Erudite.

I shrug with one shoulder and keep calm, despite the fact that I hate questions. "I suppose you'll discover that if you find yourself among them," I continue. "As I was saying. For the most part, those who guard the fence when they are young continue to guard the fence. If it comforts you, some of them insist that it isn't as bad as it seems." They might insist that, but that doesn't mean that it's true. We're Dauntless – we're proud. We like to seem more important than we really are. The initiates will catch on soon enough.

"What rank were you?" I hear Peter ask me. As much as I would like to keep that to myself, I don't want to give him the satisfaction of having me not answer.

"I was first."

"And you chose to do this?" Peter looks shocked. "Why didn't you get a government job?"

"I didn't want one."

I turn my back on him and watch with the rest of the initiates as an Amity truck comes in, before I hear another question addressed to me.

"Why didn't you want one?" It was Edward this time, and I'd rather give him this information than Peter, even though I still keep to the less-truthful side of it.

"I'm good with computers. I prefer controlling machines over controlling people." I give him a hard glare, but he just accepts the challenge and stares back at me, until Myra grabs his hand and he is forced to look away.

I turn around to see Tris talking to an Amity, who must be a former Abnegation, otherwise I am positive she would never talk to him. Maybe I was wrong – maybe she is still more Abnegation than she lets on. But as long as she knows how it benefits her, and as long as she knows how to hide it, perhaps it will help her more in the long run.

It did for me.

But for now, she has to hide it.

Before I can dwell on it more, I hear someone walk up behind me.

"I never thought I'd see the day that the infamous Four was training initiates."

It was Shelby, a girl from my initiate class. She had a wide smirk on her face.

"I did it last year, too, Shelby." I say sharply. I had never liked her. She's too curious for her own good. And she enjoys prying, too.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tris turning away from the boy she was talking to. Before Shelby can reply, I tell her, "I have to go talk to one of my initiates."

Shelby follows my gaze. "So, could the infamous Four actually have a crush on an initiate?"

I try to look annoyed at what she is saying. "Stop calling me that," I snap with real annoyance. Then add, "She's an initiate with a tendency to make bad decisions. It's my job to protect my initiates. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

I turn from the fence and walk up to Tris, stopping directly in front of her. "I am worried that you have a knack for making unwise decisions," I tell her.

She crosses her arms defensively. "It was a two-minute conversation."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "Don't think a smaller time frame makes it any less wise." Then, before I can stop myself, I reach out to touch a bruise beside her eye. She jerks her head back, and I know it was foolish, but I just sigh and leave my hand hanging there. "You know," I tell her, "if you could just learn to attack first, you might do better."

"Attack first?" she asks, looking puzzled. "How will that help?"

"You're fast. If you can get a few good hits in before they know what's going on, you could win." I shrug, and let my hand drop. It's her choice on whether she takes my advice or not. She _should_, but I can't make her, because if I did, I'd be no better than Eric.

"I'm surprised you know that," she says quietly, giving me a hard glare, "considering you left halfway through my one and only fight."

"It wasn't something I wanted to watch," I reply evenly. She doesn't have to know what I mean by it, though. I glance up and clear my throat as I see the train coming in. "Looks like the next train is here. Time to go, Tris."

I turn away from her and rally up the rest of the initiates, making sure they're all there before leading them onto the train and back to the compound.


	5. Chapter 5

**I know, I know, I'm awful. It's been forever. Life somehow has a habit of getting in the way of things. Anyways, here is the (probably) long-awaited Chapter 5! :)**

* * *

The next couple days pass in a blur of exhaustion. In training, no one fights. I only teach them more kicks and punches, which is an extremely tedious task. But today is the day I've been waiting for – Capture the Flag.

We run into the initiates dormitory, Eric leading the way. Zeke is running to my left, laughing like an absolute maniac, and Lauren to my right, chuckling quietly – probably at Zeke.

"Everybody up!" roars Eric as we barge into their dormitories. We all stand still as the initiates scramble to get up. Tris, though, pauses and looks at me. I catch her eye and we silently hold gazes before Eric yells, "Did you go deaf, Stiff?" Then she breaks eye contact to get down from her bed and stand at the foot of it like the rest of the initiates.

"You have five minutes to get dressed and meet us by the tracks. We're going on another field trip," Eric says before the group of us turns and leaves.

We arrive at the train tracks just before the Dauntless-born initiates, who arrive just before the transfers.

"Everyone grab a gun!" shouts Eric when they are all close enough to hear him. They all scramble to the crate of guns and paintballs. I already have mine strapped onto my back, just like the rest of the Dauntless members.

"Time estimate?" asks Eric from beside me.

I check my watch and do my best to swallow my annoyance before replying, "Any minute now. How long is it going to take you to memorize the train schedule?"

"Why should I, when I have you to remind me of it?" he asks me, shoving my shoulder hard. I bite back an angry reply as I see the train come up the tracks. I shouldn't let it annoy me – it was just Eric being his typical self. He'd do anything to make himself feel more important than others.

I run alongside the train and jump on easily. Without thinking, I turn around and offer my hand to help up whichever initiate is behind me. It just so happens that it is Tris, but she goes and sits down on the other side of the train car without so much as a glance in my direction.

I wait until everyone is in the car before I begin speaking.

"We'll be dividing into two teams to play capture the flag. Each team will have an even mix of members, Dauntless-born initiates, and transfers. Once team will get off first and find a place to hide their flag. Then the second team will get off and do the same." I am standing straight up without much bend to my knees, so when the train sways I am thrown off balance and I have to grab the side of the doorway for support. "This is a Dauntless tradition," I continue as if nothing has happened, "so I suggest you take it seriously."

"What do we get if we win?" yells someone. I think it is Peter, but I can't be sure.

"Sounds like a question someone not from Dauntless would ask," I say, raising an eyebrow. It probably was Peter. "You win, of course."

"Four and I will be your team captains," Eric cuts in. He glances at me, then says, "Let's divide up the transfers first, shall we?"

"You go first," I tell him. I already know exactly who he'll pick.

"Edward," he says with a shrug.

I lean against the doorframe and nod slowly. He was doing exactly what I expected, choosing a team with all brawn, but, in most cases, no brain. I survey the initiates quickly to see who is smaller and more lithe than the others, then say, "I want the Stiff."

"Got something to prove?" asks Eric as laughter fills the train. "Or are you just picking the weak ones so that if you lose, you'll have someone to blame it on?"

"Something like that," I say, shrugging noncommittally. Let him think what he wants. I notice that Tris looks upset, and I feel a pang of guilt for saying what I did, but it can't be helped.

"Your turn," I tell him, because he's still watching me curiously.

"Peter." I was definitely right.

"Christina."

"Molly."

"Will," I say, biting my thumbnail. It's a bad habit, but something I do whenever I'm nervous or thinking and my hands are free.

"Al."

"Drew."

"Last one left is Myra," says Eric, "so she's with me. Dauntless-born initiates next."

"I'll take Uriah," I say calmly.

"Lynn," Eric says without looking at them. He doesn't have to – we both know all of the Dauntless-born initiates.

"Marlene."

We finished divvying up the Dauntless-borns, and then Eric says, "Your team can get off second."

"Don't do me any favours," I tell him. He knows that I could beat him any time that I felt like – any way - "You know I don't need them to win-" including in capture the flag.

"No, I know that you'll lose no matter when you get off," he tells me. He bites down on one of the rings in his lip – a habit that disgusts me. I never understood the Dauntless fascination with piercings. Tattoos I understand, but not piercings. "Take your scrawny team and get off first, then."

The train dips towards the ground and I jump out at the head of the pack of initiates and other Dauntless members.

I spin around when someone touches my shoulder.

"When your team won, where did you put the flag?" she asks flirtatiously.

"Telling you wouldn't really be in the spirit of the exercise, Marlene," I tell her coolly.

"Come on, Four," she says, now smiling at me flirtatiously. I brush her hand off my shoulder in annoyance. I am not the type to give into flirting, or to be remotely affected by it – ever.

"Navy Pier," I hear Uriah say from my left. "My brother was on the winning team. They kept the flag at the carousel." Of course, Uriah was right. Zeke always did everything to make sure he had the advantage in training.

"Let's go there then," Will says, and we all walk towards the marsh, where the carousel is located.

I walk behind Uriah and Marlene, but ahead of the rest of the group. It is so dark that it's almost impossible to see where you are going. I don't mind it so much – the only problem is when the dark becomes suffocating, and that's when I remember all those punishments in the closets. All those times that I was told, "It's for your own good."

Marlene takes out a flashlight, and I relax a little now that I am able to see, but then Uriah says, "Scared of the dark, Mar?"

"If you want to step on broken glass, Uriah, be my guest," Marlene replies angrily, but less than a second later I hear a click, and the world is plunged back into darkness.

For many of the Dauntless, bravery isn't exactly what they think it is. There is nothing brave about walking through the pitch black streets in the dead of night. It's not cowardice to turn a flashlight on, but sometimes, we forget the difference between bravery, stupidity, and simply making everything harder for yourself. Nothing has to be harder in order for you to be self-sufficient, which is something that none of the Dauntless understand.

I can hear strings of conversation behind me, but I don't pay attention to them, preferring to concentrate on my surroundings. I look upward as we pass the Ferris wheel and I feel a faint pinch in my stomach. It's an irrational fear – I'm not on it; my feet are firmly planted on the ground – but it still scares me, nonetheless.

When we reach the carousel, I take the flag out of my pocket and turn to address the group of initiates. "In ten minutes, the other team will pick their location. I suggest you take this time to formulate a strategy. We may not be Erudite, but metal preparedness is one aspect of your Dauntless training. Arguably, it is the most important aspect."

I let Will take the flag from me, then I turn and go sit against the carousel, content to let them argue out the strategy in whatever way they see fit. The instructors and older Dauntless are not supposed to help them – this is part of their training, although I suspect that Eric doesn't pay much attention to those rules.

I look up – the sky is the one height that doesn't bother me. Maybe it's because it is so limitless. It never ends, so it seems less realistic, maybe. But whatever it is, my mind can't seem to form a rational reason to be afraid of it.

When I look back down, the bickering has grown even louder, but I notice that Tris is missing from the group. Then I see her – she is turning the corner near the Ferris wheel. Depending on what she's doing, she's either incredibly smart or insanely stupid.

Unsure of why I'm doing it, I jump up and follow her to the Ferris wheel, hoping that I don't attract any attention. I arrive at the Ferris wheel just as she is about to start climbing.

"Tris," I say quietly. She looks over her shoulder at me.

"Yeah?" she asks.

"I came to find out what you think you're doing," I tell her.

"I'm seeking higher ground. I don't think I'm doing anything," she says almost defiantly.

I smile. So she is doing what I thought she was – I have to hand it to her, she's definitely smart. "Alright. I'm coming," I tell her.

"I'll be fine," she says.

"Undoubtedly," I reply, and I mean it. I'm not entirely sure why I want to follow her, but I know I should.

She starts climbing and I wait until she is a few feet off the ground before I follow her. I catch up almost right away, though, because I am faster and taller than her. I try to avoid looking at the ground, but I can't help it. I feel the familiar pinch of fear in my chest, and I try to ignore it as we climb higher.

"So tell me…," I say quietly, aware that I sound breathless. "What do you think the purpose of this exercise is? The game, I mean, not the climbing," I clarify.

She stays quiet for a moment and then answer, "Learning about strategy. Teamwork, maybe."

"Teamwork," I start to laugh but it hitches in my throat when I look down and realize how high up we are.

"Maybe not," says Tris. "Teamwork doesn't seem to be a Dauntless priority."

I can feel the wind getting stronger as we get higher. I force myself to take a deep breath and relax, willing the fear to go away. It works, to an extent.

"It's supposed to be a priority. It used to be," I say, managing to keep my breathing slow and steady.

I look down again, accidentally, and feel the fear grip me again. I can't calm myself this time – not with the wind pushing against me the way it is.

"Now tell me…," I continue, hating the way that my panic causes me to gasp for breath, "what do you think learning strategy has to do with… bravery?"

"It… it prepares you to act," Tris says after another moment's pause. "You learn strategy so you can use it. Are you all right, Four?"

I struggle to get air into my lungs and then say, "Are you _human_, Tris? Being up this high…" I gasp for air again. "It doesn't scare you at all?"

I see her look over her shoulder to the ground, and I have to force myself not to follow her gaze below us. Then, a hard gust of wind blows. It almost pushes me off balance, and it _does_ push her off balance. Without thinking, I reach up to steady her. One of my fingers touches a strip of bare skin just under her T-shirt. Now, the nerves that are buzzing in my stomach are almost completely unrelated to the height we are at. I shudder involuntarily.

"You okay?" I ask her quietly when I realize she hasn't started moving up the ladder again.

"Yes," she replies, but I can tell her voice is strained. Is it because of the heights, or because of me? Probably not me, but I can't see her as afraid of heights either.

We keep climbing in silence until we arrive at the platform. Tris climbs onto it and moves forward until her legs are dangling at the side, but I make sure my back is pressed against the metal support. I hate how I am gasping for breath, but we are so high up. If we were to fall now, there's a chance we would be dead before we hit the ground.

"You're afraid of heights," I hear her say, as if I'm standing miles away from her rather than sitting right behind her. I pull myself back to reality. "How do you survive in the Dauntless compound?"

"I ignore my fear. When I make decisions, I pretend it doesn't exist."

We lapse into silence as she stares at me. For a moment I wonder what she is thinking, but soon I grow uncomfortable under her gaze.

"What?" I finally ask quietly.

"Nothing," she says looking away hastily. Then, "We're not high enough. I'm going to climb."

"For God's sake, Stiff," I growl. She is insane. I'm not even sure how either of us have even made it up this high without anything breaking under us, but to make it the rest of the way up there won't even be a ladder to climb.

"You don't have to follow me," she says, starting up the ladder.

"Yes, I do." I say. I'm not sure why – I could just go back down, and there would be no harm done. But now that I was this far, I had to keep going.

We both start climbing. I don't give her much of a head start before I start up after her. I see her look down and begin to sway, but then she regains herself and looks up again. We continue climbing.

This time, I don't talk. I force myself to remain calm and to breathe steadily – and most importantly, to not look down.

"See that?" asks Tris. I climb up so that I'm right behind her, with my head just over her shoulder.

"Yeah," I say, smiling. It was a smart move by Eric. Our team wouldn't have been able to find it from the ground, but from here, we can see it perfectly.

"It's coming from the park at the end of the pier," I tell her. "Figures. It's surrounded by open space, but the trees provide some camouflage. Obviously not enough."

"Okay," she says as she looks over her shoulder. After a moment's pause, she adds, "Um, start climbing down. I'll follow you."

Now, I have to look down to find a spot to put my foot. I still manage to keep my breath almost even, but I can't keep my hands from shaking, and I hate myself for it. I, too, possess the fatal flaw of the Dauntless. Pride.

Suddenly, I hear the sound of an object breaking and something goes clattering past me. I look up to see Tris dangling from the scaffolding by her hands.

"Four!" she yells desperately.

"Hold on! Just hold on, I have an idea," _and I really hope it works_, I add mentally. If what I just thought of doesn't work… I force myself to stop thinking about it and I start climbing down as fast as I can. When I reach the ladder, I hear her call my name again.

I want to call back and tell her that it will be okay, but I can't. I have to save my breath for climbing.

After what seems like an eternity, I reach the ground. I sprint around the ladder so that I am underneath the Ferris wheel, where I find the control panel. It hit the large start button on it, and for a moment, nothing happens. There is a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach; I took such a gamble and it didn't pay off.

Then, the wheel creaks and begins to move. I heave a sigh of relief. Now, I can only hope that she didn't get jolted off when the wheel started turning.

I run to the spot where I know she'll land when the Ferris wheel reaches the ground. I arrive there just before she drops from the Ferris wheel to the ground, and then rolls under a passing car.

She presses her palms to her face and doesn't move, so I rush towards her to make sure she's alright. She lets me pry her hands from her face, and then, without really thinking, I enclose one of her hands between two of mine. Her skin is cold, and my hands begin to tingle where hers touch mine, although I'm pretty sure it has nothing to do with their temperature.

"You all right?" I ask as I press our hands together.

"Yeah," she replies. And then, just because of the absurdity and craziness of it all, I begin to laugh. She joins in, and when we stop she pulls herself up so she is sitting beside me.

I stand up and pull her up.

"You could have told me that the Ferris wheel still worked," she says, and I hear a hint of accusation in her voice. "We wouldn't have had to climb in the first place."

"I would have if I had known," I say, realizing after the fact that I just confessed what a risk I took. "Couldn't just let you hang there, so I took a risk. Come on, time to get their flag." I hesitate for a moment, unsure if I should touch her or not, but then give in and take her arm. I give her a small smile and we make our way back to the carousel.

"Where'd the others go?" I ask when we get back. I figured it would take them longer than this to figure out a strategy, but then again, I really have no clue how long we'd been on the Ferris wheel for.

"Did you guys turn on the wheel?" asks a girl sitting on the carousel. I don't know her – she wasn't in my initiate class. She looks a year or two older than me. "What the hell are you thinking? You might as well have just shouted 'Here we are! Come and get us!' If I lose again this year, the shame will be unbearable. Three years in a row?"

"I wheel doesn't matter," I say impatiently, not caring to hear any more of what she has to say. "We know where they are." I can't keep the excitement out of my voice when I say this.

"We?" asks Christina, looking at both Tris and me. I resist the urge to roll my eyes and try to answer the question as civilly as possible.

"Yes, while the rest of you were twiddling your thumbs, Tris climbed the Ferris wheel to look for the other team."

"What do we do now, then?" asks Ashley, one of the Dauntless-born initiates.

I turn my gaze to Tris, and everyone else follows me. She looks tense and unsure of what to say, but then I see her eyes light up and she says, "Split in half. Four of us go to the right side of the pier, three to the left. The other team is in the park at the end of the pier, so the group of four will charge as the group of three sneaks behind the other team to get the flag."

I notice with some satisfaction that Christina looks stunned when Tris says this. Of course she wouldn't expect Tris to come up with a strategy like this. She underestimates her, just like most of the other transfers do.

"Sounds good. Let's get this over with, shall we?" asks the older girl.

Christina, Tris, and Uriah form the group going to the right, so I join the group going to the left with Ashley, the older girl, and another Dauntless-born named James.

We all raise our guns and sprint to the left of the pier, with me leading. We creep up through the bushes, and then jump out, surprising the other group. There are seven of them, and it's not long before all but one of them are shot, with no casualties to our group. The last one is shot by either Tris, Christina, or Uriah, and then they sprint out of the bushes. I see both Christina and Tris reach for the flag, but Christina is taller so she reaches it first.

Our whole team clusters around Christina, grabbing at her arm to help hold the flag higher. Tris is standing off to the side, and no one gives her a second look, so I walk up to her.

"Well done," I say quietly, touching her on the shoulder. She turns around and gives me a smile before we both turn to join the group, who has calmed down a little by now.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: GUYS it's the knife-throwing scene! I obviously didn't want to redo Veronica's version of it so I tried to incorporate what I knew from that with my own version of events. Hope you like it :)**

* * *

"How's the training going?" asks Max as he fiddles with a disgustingly large ring in his eyebrow.

"Fine," I reply, relishing in the death glare that Eric gives me when he sees Max talking to me. Eric is the leader, and Max is supposed to be asking him the questions, not me. "We have a good set of initiates this year, and I have a pretty good idea of who will be cut at the end of the next round."

Max nods and walks away as Eric still glowers. I grab a muffin and make my way to the training room to make sure everything is set up for the initiates.

When I arrive, all the targets are already set up, so I go to the storage cupboard and grab the knives. They are dull and have a hole in the handle to balance themselves out properly. They are perfect for inexperienced initiates.

Eric walks in just ahead of the initiates. I stand beside a target off to the side, and listen as he addresses everyone.

"Tomorrow will be the last day of stage one. You will resume fighting then. Today, you'll be learning how to aim. Everyone pick up three knives. And pay attention while Four demonstrates the correct technique for throwing them."

Everyone stands still, unsure of whether to watch me or grab knives.

"Now!" Eric yells, and the initiates scramble to do what they're told.

I watch Tris especially – I can't help myself. I remember touching her hand and that fearful, nervous buzzing that I get when I'm around her.

She is much more agile than the rest of the initiates because she is smaller, and she weaves seamlessly between them. She is the first initiate to arrive back at her target with three knives.

I wait until all the initiates are standing in front of their targets before I begin throwing knives. I pick up three in my left hand, then, as I exhale, I pass one to my right hand. I inhale and spin it in my hand; exhale, and throw. I get lost in the routine of it until I have no more knives in my hand, and then I have no choice but to snap back to reality.

"Line up!" I hear Eric yell to the initiates.

I watch Tris again. She practices first with and without a knife, but just the movement – she never throws it. It might look a little bit odd, but it is smart.

"Hey, Stiff! Remember what a _knife_ is?" I hear Peter taunt.

She doesn't reply – which is another smart move – and continues to practice. Then, without a hint that she is about to do anything differently, she throws the knife. It hits the target, and I'm pretty sure she's the first initiate to do so.

I watch as a smile curls her mouth and she says, "Hey, Peter. Remember what a _target_ is?"

Just then, Eric looks over at me, and I force myself to look away and not smile. Edward is the next initiate that I see hit the target. He is also the first initiate to have his knife stick in the target.

Al, however, is hopeless. His knives are constantly hitting the wall around the target, but they never actually hit the target itself. I wince when I see Eric striding towards him, looking angry.

"How slow _are_ you, Candor? Do you need glasses? Should I move the target closer to you?"

Al looks embarrassed, and he tries to throw another knife, but it misses pitifully.

"What was that, initiate?" Eric asks quietly. Eric is always more dangerous when he is quiet.

"It-it slipped," Al tells him. If it's one thing Candor kids need, it's a lesson on how to lie when they switch factions.

"Well, I think you should go get it," says Eric, still deadly quiet. All the other initiates have stopped throwing, but that's not what Eric wants. Not at all.

"Did I tell you to stop?" he asks everyone. They all start to throw again, throwing cautious looks at Eric every few seconds.

"Go get it?" asks Al. He looks terrified. "But everyone's still throwing."

"And?"

"And I don't want to get hit." There's that honesty, again. The nerve he has to be honest like this impresses me, maybe because secretly I know that I could never do that, but he is going to get hurt.

"I think you can trust your fellow initiates to aim better than you," says Eric, smiling cruelly. "Go get your knife."

"No." It's brave of him, but there's no tactic behind it. Eric knows that too, I can tell.

"Why not? Are you afraid?" asks Eric, his eyes glinting.

"Of stabbed hit by an airborne knife? Yes, I am!" The honesty was bad before, but now this honestly is leading to cowardice. At least, _Eric's_ version of cowardice.

"Everyone stop!" shouts Eric. If he's about to do what I think he's going to do, this is not going to be good. "Clear out of the ring." He narrows his eyes at Al. "All except you."

He waits until everyone has dropped their weapons and cleared out before saying, "Stand in front of the target."

No, this is not good. If Eric is going to be throwing knives at Al –

"Hey, Four. Give me a hand here, huh?"

I relax, but only slightly. At least I'll be the one throwing knives, not him. Still, this shouldn't be happening. I scratch my eyebrow with my knife point, trying to appear nonchalant.

"You are going to stand there as he throws those knives until you learn not to flinch," Eric tells Al menacingly. I know my aim is good enough that I won't hit Al, but I still have to try and stop this.

"Is this really necessary?" I ask, trying to sound bored. But I know my façade doesn't work – especially to his Erudite trained eyes. He can see how tense I am. We enter a tense stare down, but I won't give into him.

"I have the authority here, remember?" he finally says quietly. "Here, and everywhere else." I feel heat rush to my cheeks and I clutch the knife harder. He's right, of course. He does have the authority, and because I didn't become a leader, I can't challenge him on anything. I turn to face Al. I know I won't miss, but I'm nervous nonetheless.

"_Stop _it," I hear a voice say. I know who's it is. I turn to face her and give her a hard look, as if it will make her change her mind. I know it won't, but I have to try.

"Any idiot can stand in front of a target. It doesn't prove anything expect that you're bullying us. Which, as I recall, is a sign of _cowardice_." She is brave for saying something like that right to Eric's face – no one ever does that.

"Then it should be easy for you," says Eric. "If you're willing to take his place."

I look down and breathe in and out slowly, trying to calm my nerves. Throwing knives at Al is one thing, but throwing knives at Tris is another. Especially with Eric watching me. A former Erudite breathing down your neck as you throw knives at someone you – well, it was never good. I have to remind her why she is strong – why she should be strong. But with Eric here, it'll have to be subtle.

"If you flinch," I tell her slowly, willing her to catch on to what I am trying to say, "Al takes your place. Understand?"

She nods.

I keep my eyes on her as I pass the knife from hand to hand, turn the knife, and then throw. It lands half a foot away from her cheek – where I was aiming.

"You about done, Stiff?" I ask.

"No," she says resolutely.

"Eyes open then," I tell her, tapping my forehead between my eyebrows. I feel safer when her eyes are on mine – less likely to make a mistake.

I have to aim closer to hitting her if I want Eric off my back, so I focus on the part in her hair. I do my usual inhale/exhale routine, passing the knife from hand to hand. I throw, and the knife lands a hairsbreadth away from her head.

"Come on, Stiff," I tell her. "Let someone else stand there and take it." _Don't give up. Be selfless._

"Shut _up_, Four!"

It's stupid, I know. She's not a mind reader. She can't know what I'm thinking. But I can't just tell her – not with Eric breathing down my neck. Eric, who's set to make my life miserable. Eric, who wants to kill everyone I'm even remotely close to.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Eric staring at me intently, calculating my every move. I look back at Tris, and this time I aim the knife for the fast-healing cartilage of the ear. She doesn't even flinch when it hits her, but I see her hand go up to her ear and I know immediately that I hit her where I intended to.

"I would love to stay and see if the rest of you are as daring as she is," says Eric, cutting into the silence, "but I think that's enough for today." He walks over and says something to Tris, and much to my satisfaction, she looks almost angry at him.

We both wait until the room empties to speak.

"Is your-" I start, but she cuts me off.

"You did that on _purpose_!" she shouts at me. Her anger stings more than her words.

"Yes I did," I tell her gently, forcing myself to keep my temper. "And you should thank me for helping you."

"_Thank you_?" she asks, disbelief etched everywhere onto her face. I can't blame her. "You almost stabbed my ear, and you spent the entire time taunting me. Why should I thank you?"

Taunting? She might not be a mind-reader, but I had thought for a moment, at least, that she might have actually seen the message in what I was saying to her.

"You know, I'm getting a little tired of waiting for you to catch on!" I can feel my anger building, but I force myself to remain calm.

"Catch on? Catch on to what? That you wanted to prove to Eric how tough you are? That you're sadistic, just like he is?"

"I am not sadistic," I say, even more quietly. I can't have her thinking I'm like Eric – I just can't. I lean closer to her so I can speak quieter, but I can't help but notice how blue eyes seem to glow with inquisitiveness and knowledge, and how she seems to automatically look smart. Not Erudite smart – just smart.

"If I wanted to hurt you, don't you think I would have already?" I ask it so low that I'm almost whispering. Then I step away and walk out, stabbing the knife into the table to on my way past it to try and vent my anger. It works – kind of.

"I-" I hear her start to shout, but I walk out of the room without a glance back. I hear her frustrated scream from behind me but I keep going, my anger driving me forward. This can't be happening. I almost abandoned all my plans – everything for her, and now she thinks that I'm sadistic? That I'm trying to please Eric?

But I know I still can't follow through with what I had planned. I can't leave the Dauntless compound, because I like her. There – I said it, but I won't say it again.


End file.
